


Legerdemain, or The Artful Trickery Behind the Perfect Coffee

by donutsweeper



Series: Ratiocination [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Barista!Sherlock, Gen, barista!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:12:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John discovers more than he expected on a visit to Ratiocination, his favorite coffee shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legerdemain, or The Artful Trickery Behind the Perfect Coffee

With a little trepidation John headed to his favourite coffee shop for his first time in several months. It wasn't that he didn't wish to visit _Ratiocination_ nor that he was not in dire need of a coffee, but rather that he could barely afford to do so. There had been so many extraneous expenses that had cropped up of late that he'd already put more on his card than he should have and then there was Harry and his da and _their_ needs.... In truth, John barely had been barely able to scrape together the coins for the cheapest of Sherlock's coffees, and that was including the quid he'd found on the pavement on his way to class.

Not that John was ashamed of his lack of finances, there was nothing wrong with having to tighten the proverbial belt or trying to live within one's means, but he didn't want to advertise it either. Since Sherlock's policy was that the barista decided what drink the customer needed and prepared it sans input so there was the chance (if not the certainty) that he actually wouldn't be able to afford what Sherlock wound up making for him. 

The coffee shop was busy as ever when he arrived but there were still some empty tables, John was happy to note. He'd brought a few textbooks along and was hoping to get in a little studying in while he nursed his drink. There was also the possibility he'd get a chance to chat a little with Sherlock here and there during the lulls as well? It was unlikely, considering the time of day, but he still hoped it might happen; they hadn't talked in far too long.

The line moved quickly; Sherlock presented a mocha to a harried looking office worker, offered a pair of cappuccinos with a sprinkle of cinnamon to a policewoman, and a long black to a tired looking young man. Each transaction took place with minimal fuss much to John's surprise. It was too good to last, of course, and it didn't. The customer in front of John presented Sherlock with a small carton before even saying a word.

"And what am I suppose to do with this, may I ask?" Sherlock held the carton between his thumb and index finger with his arm outstretched, as if he was keeping the offending item as far away from himself as possible.

"It's for my latte," sneered the woman.

"You are ordering a latte and supplying your own milk?" 

Well, John thought, this was not going to end well.

"Obviously."

"Are you suggesting that there is something _wrong_ with the milk in my establishment?" Sherlock's tone was icy, disdainful. John recognized that tone and he couldn't help but rub his forehead upon hearing it. So much for the nice, calm, quiet place to study and so much for Sherlock being an accommodating mood. John sighed.

"I cannot comment on the matter, however I can admit is unlikely it would meet my exacting standards, which are very, very high. I am _very_ particular," was the haughty reply.

"Well, yes, that much is obvious from your manner of dress. Harrods? Really? Even your lingerie? And as for your footwear, well, Lanvins?" Sherlock sniffed derisively. "And a new pair at that, worn only twice before. You obviously have more money than common sense, considering you are wearing open-toed shoes despite the nearly one hundred percent chance of rain later today. New money though, you're to be congratulated for marrying so far above your station. But that does not enable you to act the part, does it? I shall give you a little piece of advice, those born with money rarely feel the need to display it so ostentatiously." John watched as the woman became an odd combination of both deathly pale and terribly red. 

"Well!" she cried out, fluttering her hands. "I have never-"

"I highly doubt that, considering the number of years that you worked in what polite society calls the 'service industry'. Here," Sherlock shoved the carton of milk at the woman. "Now leave and do not return."

"How dare you? You have no right!" The woman was shrieking now, her voice grating John's nerves.

"A better question is how dare _you_ , madam. Wearing pastels and sapphires together? This time of year? Not to mention those wedge sandals. Made of snakeskin, no less. Are you truly unaware of how much of a fashion faux pas that truly is? Now leave. This instant." Sherlock made a shooing motion. "Next!"

"Hullo, Sherlock." John stepped around the still sputtering woman and approached the counter.

"Ah, John. I was wondering as to the reason you had stopped frequenting my establishment, but now I understand why. Utter foolishness on your part, of course. Commendable, but foolish. Take a seat, I'll bring your tea out to you in a moment." Sherlock gestured to a free table before addressing the customer next in line. "Yes? Latte, extra shot, I assume?"

A little over three hours later John began packing up his things, preparing to head home. He'd stayed longer than he'd planned, first nursing his tea and then drinking the incorrectly prepared flat white Sherlock had left for him on the table ("Nothwithstanding the fact it was totally inappropriate for the particular customer I prepared it for; I don't know what I was thinking, John.") along with a panini which had been burned slightly and thus destined for the rubbish bin. It was only when he shoved his pen into his pocket and heard the jingle of coins there that he realized he hadn't actually paid for his order.

Even to John, it was obvious that Sherlock had never asked for payment on purpose. He must have ascertained John's financial difficulties somehow, probably from the fold of his shirt or fraying of his trousers or however it was that Sherlock figured out anything, and deliberately avoided putting John in the situation where he wouldn't be able to cover whatever the bill for the tea would have been. It was a nice gesture of Sherlock's, oddly kind of him in fact, and John knew that bringing notice to it would not be appreciated.

What probably would be appreciated, however, was John trying to come by _Ratiocination_ more often, which was something he would certainly try to do. Although next time, come hell or high water, he was going to make sure he paid for his drink. He needed to make sure his favourite coffee shop stayed in business after all, didn't he?


End file.
